


Touch Me (And I'll Touch You)

by ToAStranger



Series: Giving Myself to You (Prompt Fills) [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Rutting, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone wants a piece of Stiles. </p><p>- - - </p><p>Another old prompt fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch Me (And I'll Touch You)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: A new pack is passing through BH and their alpha, smitten, tries to woo Stiles. Scared of Stiles actually leaving, the home team try to woo Stiles back. Stiles/All the pairings!

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Stiles says, arms crossing over his chest. 

Peter sighs from where he and Derek are giving Scott the rundown over the kitchen table.  ”Alliances are important, Stiles.  They—” 

“Strengthen the Pack and our claim on the territory, blah, blah, blah— I’ve heard it already.  Can we get to the part where you explain to me why  _I_  have to be there?”  Stiles asks dryly.  

"You’re Scott’s Second.”  Derek replies, not even looking up from the map, searching for a good place to meet with the other Pack, someplace with equal footing for all of them.  

Stiles’ nose wrinkles.  ”I’m not a werewolf.” 

“But you’re strong,” Scott replies.  "And you’re my best friend.  And you’ve got some mojo about you—"

“—a Spark,” Peter provides. 

“Right.  A Spark.  You help me with everything, dude.  You’re totally my Second, which means you’ve gotta be there.  Or it’ll be, like, insulting them.”  Scott shrugs, smiling over at Stiles, and Stiles returns the expression.  "Bros for life, you know?“ 

"Yeah, yeah.”  Stiles sighs, moving close and letting their knuckles bump, hating the way his heart sort of sinks a bit at the terminology.  "Bros for life.“ 

* * *

Stiles is a little more than shocked when the Alpha gives him a lingering once over.  ”This is your emissary?” 

"In training.”  Stiles clarifies, wondering if she likes what she sees or thinks he’s as pathetic as Stiles feels. 

“You smell strong,” she replies, eyes flashing a warm red.  

Stiles would have felt a bit panicked if it wasn't for the way Scott presses closer.  ”Thank you?” 

“You’re welcome,” she bows her head slightly.  "I am Zoe Torres, Alpha of the Alleyne Pack.“ 

Stiles glances over at Scott, but his own Alpha doesn’t reply.  He vaguely recalls something about only those who are addressed by the Alpha should speak first— make it as painless as possible— and Stiles swallows as he smiles at her.  

"And I’m Stiles of Beacon Hills, son of Orflec the butcher.”  He quips.  

Zoe smiles slowly, eyes bright even in the dim light that is filtering from above.  He can hear Derek sigh heavily; he doesn’t have to look to know that Scott is grinning over at him in something like adoration.  One of Zoe’s wolves chuckle. 

“You’re funny,” she says. 

“Depends on who you’re speaking to." 

"Funny, strong, and from what I hear very smart.”  Zoe adds.  "I’m not in Beacon Hills for just any reason, Mr. Stilinski.“ 

"Then why are you here?”  Scott speaks up for the first time since introducing himself.  

“To woo your emissary, Alpha McCall.”  Zoe grins, sharp, over at Scott and everyone stiffens.  "Originally only to offer him a place in our Pack.  But seeing him… to offer him a place as my Mate.“ 

Stiles swallows thickly, and there is the definite smell of arousal.  Zoe is, well… she’s easy on the eyes, that’s for damn sure. 

Scott growls.  ”That’s not going to happen.” 

"That’s up to your emissary,” she replies.  "We’ll be in the area for a month, as previously discussed.  When we’re ready to move on, Mr. Stilinski will decide.“ 

"I can’t decide now?” Stiles asks. 

Zoe smiles over at him.  ”Give it a little time, Stiles.  I assure you, I can be very persuasive.” 

“Right." 

"A month,” Scott says through clenched teeth.  "That’s all you get.“ 

Zoe smiles like she’s already won.  ”That’s all I’ll need.”

* * *

Two weeks in and Stiles is maybe kind of a little bit in love.  Zoe is a goddess among mortals.  She’s warm and bright, encourages him when they meet up and gives him tomes that he otherwise would have never got his hands on.  Her entire Pack is welcoming too, though his favorite is their youngest Beta, a young girl named Summer who is fond of dancing and playing video games.

She’s kind of a wiz, and even with games she’s never played before, she kicks his ass.  Her brother is always kind of looming, and the rest of the Pack seems amicable enough.  Stiles, of course, has no intensions of leaving.  None at all.  He’s loyal, and will cling to his own Pack until the end of the world (which he is still convinced will be by zombies).

That doesn’t mean that he hasn’t been sort of swooning since Zoe and her Pack started trying to sway him to the dark side.  The Pack— _his_  Pack naturally takes these admissions of awe as evidence that whatever it is Zoe is doing is  _working_.

Which is the only explanation Stiles can come up with as to why there are two very attractive Betas in his room.

“Finally.  I thought you were gonna be out with them all night, Batman.” Erica sighs from her spot on his bed, rolling off of her stomach and onto her side—wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of panties.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Stiles squeaks, cheeks growing a ruddy color as he covers his eyes.  “What are you doing?  Your boyfriend is right there, and he will kill me!”

Boyd chuckles, spinning lazily around in Stiles’ desk chair.  “Drop the hands, little man.  It’s not a big deal.”

“Then you won’t be killing me?”  Stiles asks, peering over at Boyd cautiously, and the older boy shakes his head. 

“No, Stiles.”  He says, a small but warm smile on his face.  “I’m not even gonna kill you for this.”

“For what—“

Erica is standing right in front of him.  Like,  _right_  in front of him, oh my  _god_ —

Her lips are soft but insistent against his.  She curls her fingers into the straps of his backpack, and takes advantage of the way his jaw drops.  Tilting her head, she licks his way past his teeth, letting it tangle with his, and it’s only a second later when Stiles moans and lets his eyes fall shut.  Erica hums her reply, tugging him closer sharply, and Stiles stumbles a bit but she is strong enough to hold her ground against him.

It is a moment into this that he realizes Boyd has gotten up from the desk chair.  Mostly because Boyd is pressed to his back, a strong hand on Stiles’ hip as he ducks his head down to inhale the scent of him.  His nose presses to the sensitive spot just under Stiles’ ear, and it earns a shudder from the teen trapped between them.  Stiles’ heartbeat spikes as he feels Boyd’s other hand slip up the inside of Stiles’ shirt over warm skin—rough and soft in all the right ways—and that’s when Stiles breaks away with a gasp.

“Um—Um, what—?” he stammers, hands flailing sort of uselessly.

“We’re here to convince you,” Erica says, kissing along his jaw, shuffling forward until Stiles is sandwiched _firmly_  between the two Betas.  The two ridiculously hot, hot,  _ohmygod so hot_  Betas.  Erica laughs, scents the air, and leans in to nip at his lower lip.  “It’s okay, Batman.  We want you too.”

“Convince—Convince me?” Stiles squeaks, and then Boyd’s  _hand_ —Stiles bucks into his palm, groaning at the sweet pressure, and then blushes a bit helplessly.

“To stay with the Pack.  Our Pack.”  Boyd adds.  “To let you know that you’re wanted.”

“In many more ways than one,” Erica winks.

“So this is just—“

“No,” Boyd cuts him off, giving a firm squeeze to his crotch and rocking against the cleft of his ass to show his own reaction to what was going on.  “No, this is all very, very real.”

“Oh,” Stiles breathes, voice reedy and tight.  “Okay.”

“Is it?” Erica perks up.  “Because I had this whole striptease thing planned, but if you’re okay with it we can jump straight to the good stuff.”

“Good stuff?”

Eyes flashing a pretty gold color, she glances over Stiles’ shoulder at Boyd.  “Get him out of his clothes.  Get him on the bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  Boyd grins.

Stiles goes willingly.

* * *

Orgasms aside, the entire situation is very confusing.  For Stiles anyways.  Mostly because after all the cuddling and kissing and post-coital glow, they told him to expect more of it.  On, like, a permanent basis.  And that he didn’t have to “limit himself,” which Stiles had absolutely no idea what  _that_  meant. 

Until Isaac cornered him in the locker room. 

“You’ve been smelling like them more and more,” Isaac mutters, crowding in close, and Stiles grips at the towel around his waist like a lifeline.

“What? Who?” Stiles asks, blushing, worried for a moment that maybe he could smell Erica and Boyd— _of course_  he could smell Erica and Boyd—and was angry about it. 

“That—that other  _Pack_ ,” Isaac scowls.  “You should stop spending time with them.”

“Isaac, it’s really nothing, okay—?”

Isaac growls and really Stiles should be used to that by now, but he isn’t.  Isaac presses him back against the lockers, dipping his head to drag his nose along Stiles’ collarbone, water still clinging to his skin.  Thank fuck no one else is left in there. 

“You smell good like  _this_.  Clean.”

“I’ll um… start showering more?”  Stiles tries.  “Maybe try and new body spray.  I saw a commercial the other day with David Beckham in it for some cologne.”

Isaac gives him a dry look.  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“It isn’t?”

“ _Stiles_ —“

“What did you mean then?  Because I’m drawing a blank here—“

Isaac kisses him firmly.  Stiles meeps.

Brows furrowed, Isaac pulls back.  “Not the reaction you should be having.”

“Right, cuz I’m just supposed to jump you because you’re showing an interest all of a sudden.”  Stiles snorts, and Isaac raises a slow brow—smiling crookedly.

“Yeah.”

Stiles looks at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing in a squinty way before he sighs and shrugs.  “Okay.”

He tugs Isaac back in for another kiss, easily much more demanding now that he knows (kind of) what’s going on.  Isaac presses in flush, letting out a satisfied rumble, and they claim each other’s mouths messily. 

They end up rutting together against the lockers until Stiles comes with a cry of Isaac’s name, and the other teen is quick to follow.  Stiles takes another shower afterwards, and Isaac trails along behind him like a puppy the whole way.  Stiles can’t say he doesn’t like it.

* * *

So now he’s sort of, kind of sleeping with Erica, Boyd, and Isaac.  Not only in the sexual sense, but the physical one as well.  No, literally, they come over to his house sometimes and crawl into bed with him and sleep like a puppy pile (after orgasms, of course, this is so weird).  How is this Stiles’ life?

Zoe’s Pack seems to have noticed the new claim his Pack is slowly making on him.  She doesn’t say anything when they meet for lunch on a pretty Saturday afternoon, but he can tell that she knows something.  He’s tempted to ask, but he thinks it might be rude.

When he gets home later that day, there’s Scott and Allison in his kitchen and talking with his dad.  They all look very serious, and Stiles freezes as he enters. 

“Should I be running?” Stiles asks, a bit wary. 

“No, son.” The Sheriff sighs, shaking his head as he pinches his nose and stands.  “No need to run unless you want to.”

“Want to?  Why would I want to?”

“Good question,” the Sheriff mutters, moving over to him and patting his shoulder.  “Stay safe.  Don’t—I mean, don’t do anything stupid, Stiles.  I got a late shift.”

“Um… okay?” Stiles replies, looking a bit confused. 

The Sheriff just gives him a small smile and leans in, kissing Stiles’ temple.   “Have a good night.  Clean up when you’re done.  That’s one mess I don’t want to deal with.  Ever.”

As his father walks out the door, Stiles turns a bewildered expression onto his best friends.  “What was _that_?”

Scott shrugs, beaming over at him.  “We were just telling him our intensions.”

“Your—Oh.  Oh, no.  No.  Not you guys too.”

“It’s not a big deal, Stiles.” Allison smiles at him, soft and affectionate.  “It’s actually pretty normal from what I’ve read.”

“ _What_  about all of this is  _normal_?” Stiles asks, pitch raising to hysteric levels as his arms windmill wildly.  “Everyone suddenly wants to seduce me.  I’ve gotten more action in the last couple of days than I have in my  _entire life_ , and I’m starting to think it’s witchcraft because—“

Stiles cuts himself off, lips rounding. 

“Oh.  Oh!”

“Oh?” Scott tilts his head.

“Oh!” Stiles nods.  “It’s a spell.  It’s a—It’s a curse or something, to make you all find me suddenly smokin’ hot so that your distracted and don’t notice—don’t notice—“

“Don’t notice what?” Allison asks, standing up slowly, and Stiles straightens up and swallows thickly at the look in her eyes as she draws closer, fingers dragging over the table top.  “The complete lack of supernatural activity anywhere near here?”

“Yeah,” Stiles replies, then shakes his head.  “Wait, no.  That’s not—“

“It has nothing to do with a spell, Stiles.” Scott says from where he’s sitting, voice firm, looking more like the Alpha that he is and less like a kid.  “It has everything to do with you.”

“What about me?” 

“The reason that Zoe thinks she can take you is because she sees that we’ve been… neglecting you.”  Scott replies, jaw flexing.  “We won’t be making that mistake again.”

Allison takes Stiles' hand, pulling him over carefully to where Scott awaits them.  “It’s not just because of the other Pack, Stiles.  They just helped us all realize what we’ve been doing wrong.”

“Which is?”

“Holding back certain feelings,” Scott supplies.  “Not giving into what we need.  What  _you_  need.”

Stiles falls quiet as they stop before Scott.  Stiles is already rank with arousal, just at the idea being tossed around, and Scott’s eyes flash red.  He holds up a hand to Stiles, expectant but also questioning.  Coaxing.  Because ultimately, all of this is Stiles’ decision.

“Come here.”

Stiles swallows again, with an audible little click, and he reaches out to Scott’s hand and lets himself get pulled into his lap.  They kiss easily, like they’ve been doing it for years, and Allison strokes through Stiles’ hair.  It’s lingering and slow, but it doesn’t last long like that. 

Back to Scott’s chest, Stiles ends up holding onto the edge of the table for dear life as Scott fucks up into him.  Allison steadies him with a hand in his hair, splaying out over the kitchen table as Stiles’ eats her out.  When they’re all spent and Scott guides him up to his room as he mumbles about cleaning the dining room up before his dad gets home, Stiles vaguely realizes that he has more questions than he does answers.

* * *

“Stop looking at me like that,” Lydia says, face resting heavily against her palm as she reads through their history text book, taking idle notes on a notebook.

“Like what?” Stiles scoffs, looking away for a moment before staring at her again, watching her every move as if she might spring out and bite him like a cobra. 

“Like that,” Lydia replies, giving him a dry look.

“I’m not looking at you like anything, okay?  Stop being weird.”

Lydia purses her lips.  Stiles tries to look casual.

“Your book is upside down,” she tells him.

He blushes.

“If you want to know if I’m going to try and screw you like the rest of our sex-crazed little Pack, you can stop.”  Lydia sits up a bit primly.

Stiles slumps—disappointed and, well,  _embarrassed_.

“Because I am,” she adds.  “I just haven’t decided when yet.”

Stiles looks over at her slowly, jaw going lax.   “ _What_.”

“You’re cute.  I want you, and you want me.  I don’t see a problem with it.”  Lydia shrugs a shoulder, and then looks thoughtful for a moment.  “I’ve never had sex in the library before.  Do you think we could pull that off?”

Stiles practically melts.  “I love you.”

Lydia shoots him a dazzling smile.  “I know.”

* * *

“The other Pack is gone, I’m still here, and you guys can all stop with the charade.  It’s been fun, but I get it and there’s no reason to string me along anymore.”  Stiles calls out into the loft as he walks through the front door, stilling when he realizes that only Derek is there.

“The other Pack is gone?” he asks, brow furrowed.

“Um… Yeah.  Zoe—Alpha Zoe and I had a discussion.  She was originally going to stay the whole month, but uh… I guess I was pretty convincing when I told her I was never leaving you guys.”  Stiles scuffs his shoe against the floor.  “Not a big deal.”

“That’s—“ Derek’s jaw works, and he nods.  “That’s good, Stiles.  That’s good to hear.”

“Very good, indeed.”  Peter drawls, making his way down the stairs with all the ease of a Hollywood villain. 

Stiles isn’t attracted to him and his deep-v.  He isn’t.  He definitely isn’t going to say he’s sad he’s going to miss finding out if the Hales were going to take part in the crackpot plan to get him to stick around.  Stiles considers himself lucky that he ever got laid.  Cherished memories for future lonely nights.

“Yeah,” Stiles palms the back of his head.  “I thought we were having a Pack meeting.  I was gonna tell everyone in one go.”

“Courteous of you,” Peter hums, drawing in closer and scenting the air.  “My, my you  _certainly_  have become entwined with this Pack recently, haven’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Stiles asks, an endearing wrinkle forming between his brows.

“Peter,” Derek chides.  “He doesn’t know.  No one has explained it to him.”

“I’ve noticed,” Peter retorts, a hand reaching out and curving behind Stiles’ neck, eyes flashing blue when Stiles’ eyes fall shut.  “Do you want to know what’s happening, Stiles?”

“Yes,” he breathes, and there must be something pleasant in the tone of his voice because both wolves let out that rumbling sound that’s almost a purr.  “Please.”

“This is what it’s like to be in a wolf pack, Stiles.”  Peter says softly, crowding in close so that Stiles can feel the heat of him.  “The bonds between us will grow stronger and stronger this way.”

Stiles’ nose wrinkles.  “Even between family members?”

“No,” Peter barks out a laugh, and Stiles opens his eyes to catch sight of Derek’s own laugh being muffles behind a hand.  “Familial bonds are already strong.  But a truly powerful, cohesive Pack?  That comes with things like this.  With… sharing.  Loving, even.”

“Loving?” Stiles glances up at him.

“In a sense,” Peter nods.  “You love each and every one of us, don’t you?  In your own way.”

“Yes,” Stiles answers instantly. 

“Good,” Peter nods.

“You don’t have to do any of this, Stiles.” Derek adds.  “It’s only if you want to.  It’s only ever if you want to.”

“But with—with all of you?”

“Yes,” Peter confirms.  “Though, if you were to date someone outside the Pack, it would be understandable if you ceased.  If you found someone within the Pack, or a couple of someones, you could limit yourself.  Though the… more canine members are going to always  _want_  to.”

“Do you want to?”

“Since the moment I saw you,” Peter says.

Stiles nods, looking Derek’s way, and the other man nods.  “For a while, Stiles.  A long while.”

Stiles inhales deep, takes it all in.  He shivers, and gives a little nod of his own.  “Good news: my dad seems to already know.”

Peter chuckles.  “The Pack isn’t to be here for another hour.  I’d very much enjoy getting to know you in the ways they have, Stiles.  I’m sure Derek is itching to get into your pants as well.”

“Okay,” Stiles replies, grinning a bit, feeling lighter.  Feeling freer somehow.  “Lead the way.” 


End file.
